When We Can't See the Forest for the Trees

Driving home from Boston late Saturday afternoon in the pouring snow and without snow tires :( we found a B&B in Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire and homed in for the night. Sunday morning dawned with a blue sky and melting-wet roads.

We drove home through the spectacular beauty of snow-laden pine trees interspersed with khaki green, gold-brown oak trees that still have all their leaves. The combination made for beautiful mottled hillsides. I really had no idea of the dense oak population in New Hampshire forests.

We often can't see the forest for the trees. We are so focused on the thoughts in the mind that we don't notice the mind itself. We "believe" our thoughts and think they are real when they are but momentary firings of neurons, passing through quickly. And then they are gone.

We've had 10,000 thoughts in the past 24 hours. Where are they now?

We've been so intent on the trees (i.e., our thoughts), that we haven't noticed the forest of the mind just being there.

Beech Leaves

The first snow has fallen here in the North country. And, finally, the first frost this morning--31 degrees--which had the effect of freezing the wet snow.

Beech leaves have been beautiful this past week--apple green in the understory, changing to shades of yellow-golden above eye-level, topped off by coppery tan above. Now snow encrusts leaves and branches.

The pale green beech leaves almost fooled us into feeling spring, yet now their aging is truly apparent.

Friends in their 60s and 70s, who seem young at heart, nevertheless wrestle with their aging bodies. A 53-year-old friend has terminal cancer.

The end of harvest season gives us the opportunity to pause and reflect on our own end-of season as wintry frost creeps up on us.

Kiwis in the North

My favorite fruits are berries. When berry season begins, i buy a pint of berries a day at our local farmstand, and ssshhh, don't tell anyone: Sometimes i eat an entire pint of red raspberries before i arrive home, 2 miles away.

Strawberries, red raspberries, black raspberries, cherries, blueberries. The season is all over by early September. For solace, i buy ground cherries, also known as Cape gooseberries. These little yellow-orange "berries" hide inside a tomatillo-type paper husk. They are slightly tart and also sweet.

Then, the last week of September, it's kiwi season in the north country! Kiwis in zone 4? Yep. These grape-sized "berries" have a smooth skin and taste exactly like their big-cousin kiwis. If you daintily slice one open, you'll find green fruit and teensy black seeds. Kiwis only last until frost, so usually the season is just a week or 10 days long. This year, kiwi season has lasted an entire month :)

In our meditation practice, we may yearn for the "big fruit" of en-lighten-ment. In our day after day practice, little insights--the little fruits of our practice--gradually add up. Eventually the light will shine through.

Meanwhile, let's enjoy the fruit(s) that we can taste right now.

Melting, Melting

My garden still has not had a frost, though the forecast calls for freezing temperatures at night later this week.

These warm (for October) temperatures make me think that, somewhere, glaciers and icecaps are melting. A Bermuda-sized iceberg just broke off of the Greenland ice-sheet.

These icebergs won't raise sea level, like melting ice cubes in your drink don't raise the water level in your glass. The inland melting of glaciers into rivers and into oceans raises the water level. Bangkok is flooded with more water than it has ever seen. Even the houses on stilts have had to be evacuated.

Change--climate change--is happening relatively fast. Our children will live in a warmer climate zone than we do, and their children in a warmer one still.

Notice this day's warmth and coolness. There'll never be another day just like it.

Topping Off the Compost Bin

The end of gardening season is creeping up on me. To entertain myself, i prep the beds for next spring when the garden becomes a hive of activity. It's good to do as many of those spring chores as possible NOW, sort of like prepping for a big dinner party by doing some things days ahead.

I picked up a load of manure on Saturday and used it to "top off" 3 bins of compost that had already reached the brim with fall clean-up. Now they can sit and "cook" all winter.

This is the effect meditation has on us. We pile on 20 minutes in the morning, and unnoticed by us, it "cooks" our mind during the rest of the day. Perhaps we can keep our fingers on the pulse of calm for a few hours. Or maybe irritation stays at bay.

What effect does meditation have on you? And on your day?

A Clump of Bulbs

When i dug plants out of the white garden to save them from the trenching, i found a big clump of daffodils, already sprouted and ready to keep on growing. This "find" provides the perfect opportunity to divide the overcrowded clump of bulbs and even give some of them away.

Our lives become overcrowded with busy-ness. One activity spawns another. Every new material item requires some sort of maintenance, such as dusting or washing or finding a place to store the darn thing. Things pile up on top of each other. Responsibilities proliferate.

It's time to divide those responsibilities. Give items away. Hand over responsibility to someone else (even though this is very hard.)

After a period of rest this winter, you too will bloom.

Gratitude

I am overcome with gratitude, all because my front sidewalk is back in place.

The gardener, Elisha, and i re-leveled two of the big stones, but the last one--3 feet x 3 feet--was daunting. And really, really heavy.

When the 28-year-old Green Mountain Well guy came by, he and Elisha worked on the last stone. Now the walkway looks as good as new. Thank goodness for young backs!

Begin your meditation with a minute of gratitude. Recall people, situations, places, or events that you are grateful for.

Open your heart to the unfolding of life.